


The Book Fairy

by tptigger



Series: The Book Fairy [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Harry Potter spoilers, Not a Crossover, capsicle issues, this was going to 1000 words of ridiculousness but Steve had other ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptigger/pseuds/tptigger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is having trouble settling into the 21st Century, and he's tired of reading history. While he appreciates book recommendations from The Avengers, why is one of them sneaking the Harry Potter books into his quarters in Avengers tower? (Harry Potter spoilers, also The Avengers movie spoilers)  (Adding series for the sequel, and cleaning up typos while I'm at it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Book Fairy

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be 1000 words of ridiculousness. It ended up being nearly 8000 words of Cap adjusting to the 21st Century. Many thanks to kiirotsubasa for egging me on and beta reading.

Logically, Steve knew it wasn't true, that the various S.H.I.E.L.D agents were not playing a game of "confuse Captain America" or "embarrass Captain America," or, more aptly, "apologize to Captain America for saying something that might offend his sensibilities." Though in their defense, all that these young pups (some of whom were probably technically older than him if you didn't count the years in the ice) knew about Steve's era was from movies and history books, and was probably heavily influenced by some of the ridiculous black and white shows he'd seen on late night cable once at Tony's behest. When he'd told Tony that those shows made Flash Gordon look realistic, Tony had laughed and suggested The Cosby Show instead.

That was the last time any of the Avengers had suggested something completely unhelpful; Steve decided that it was because the other Avengers cared, and listened to him. And that the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents hated him. Well, OK, not that last part, but it certainly helped that the Avengers cared about him.

The Avengers also _talked_ to him, as opposed to when he often found people in the S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ would often stop talking abruptly when he entered for a meeting. They usually pretended that it was just that they wanted to get started, but once or twice they then realized not everyone was there yet.

He had combat training three days a week with Agents Chan and Joubert. He'd thought it was ridiculous that he needed two trainers until he realized they were switching off halfway through because they were tired. He supposed that, unlike Thor (when he was on Earth), they were only human, but Barton and Romanoff seemed to have no such concerns. None that they admitted to, at least, though sometimes he wondered.

"Good job, Cap," Joubert said as Steve finished wiping the floor with Chan.

"Please tell me that's time," Chan said, panting a bit.

Steve offered him a hand up. "I think we can kill thirty seconds." He was conveniently forgetting that the wall clock was 15 minutes fast. He felt sorry for these guys (despite the fact that they were supposed to be training him, they were usually the ones taking the beating. He'd have thought it wasn't as useful as training with Barton and Romanoff, except he'd actually managed to get the drop on Natasha once that week, so he had to be learning something from someone.)

"You might want to check this out," Chan said, pulling a worn paperback from his duffel bag and tossing it at Steve.

Steve caught it. "Thanks, I've been looking for a break from all the history anyway."

"It's a classic, from the nineteen sixties. A real seminal work."

"Cool, thanks," Steve said.

* * *

He came out of the locker room and headed to a briefing on the latest intelligence on the remnants of H.Y.D.R.A.

There was a strangled grunt of frustration from behind him as Agent Rosenberg fell into step with him. Her hands were clenched.

"You all right, Agent?" he asked.

"If I have to listen to one more rant from Agent Olson about the war on terror that sounds like it came right out of the McCarthy hearings, I'm going to explode."

"I'm sorry, what are the McCarthy hearings?" Steve asked as they stepped into the meeting.

Rosenberg, who still looked like she was going to start smoking out of her ears any second, just sighed. "It's a long story. Google it, OK?"

Steve sighed, taking his seat. He knew this meant asking Tony or Bruce for a better reference than Wikipedia, since anytime _anyone_ found him on that site, he got a lecture on crowd sourcing and lack of fact checking. Mostly from the reference librarians, as he would often try to slip onto a shared S.H.I.E.L.D. computer during his down time when agents were being confusing.

"All right," Director Fury said, striding into the room. "Let's begin."

* * *

Steve was relieved to get back to Avengers Tower. He was _always_ relieved to be back in Avengers tower. There were days he felt like it was the shining beacon of everything left that was good in the world, and that the rest of the city was trying to suck it all away.

He beeped his keycard against the reader, and pressed the button for the express elevator to their living quarters, nervously trying not to worry the book between his hands.

"Taking a break from history, Steve?" Clint asked, indicating the book.

"Chan lent it to me," Steve said, handing it to Clint.

Clint frowned. " _A Stranger in a Strange Land_? What did he tell you about this?"

"Only that it was a seminal classic from the nineteen sixties," Steve said. "Title feels about right though."

Clint frowned. "So he didn't mention the part about it kicking off the hippy free love movement? Or that fact that some of Heinlein's revolutionary sexual ideas are still pretty... weird today?"

"Um, no," Steve said, frowning a bit.

"This one broke _my_ brain, and I wasn't raised before World War II," Clint said.

"Are you saying I can't take it?"

"I'm saying that it might not be the best introduction to modern society and culture," Clint said. "And I really don't think you'd like it, at least not yet. _Starship Troopers_ , sure. This one? I'd wait awhile."

"You okay?" Steve asked. The last time he'd seen that stormy a look on Clint's face was when Fury had sent Natasha on a solo mission to Russia.

"At least Chan isn't trying to baby you, but a heads up as to what you were getting into would have been appropriate."

The elevator dinged and they stepped on.

"People don't seem to like to deal with me," Steve said with a sigh.

"I don't mind it, what else happened?" Clint asked.

"Rosenberg was going on about McCarthyism and basically told me to Google it."

The elevator dinged as they stepped out onto the common floor.

"Long story short, Senator McCarthy went on a witch hunt for communists in the 1950s," Clint said, tossing the paperback onto the coffee table.

"Witch hunt is probably being charitable," Tony said from the table, where he was laying out dishes.

"You didn't cook?" Clint said, looking horrified.

"Oh please," Bruce said, "like anyone in their right mind would let Tony near a hot stove."

Tony balled up a napkin and tossed it at him.

"I rest my case," Bruce said, stirring the mix of vegetables and meats in the pot.

Steve didn't know what it was, but it smelled good.

"As I was saying, they blacklisted suspected communists and pulled in anyone they didn't agree with for questioning," Tony said.

"How is that not a witch hunt, Stark?" Clint asked.

Steve plopped down on the couch next to Natasha. Dinner was covered, he could help with the dishes. 

Natasha had picked up Chan's book from where Clint had dropped it on the coffee table. "Clint, I thought you hated this book."

"It's not his," Steve explained. "Chan lent it to me."

"He what?" Natasha leapt to her feet.

"I'll talk to him, Tasha," Clint said.

"I'll..."

"I'll _talk_ to him," Clint said firmly. "Sit down."

"Do I want to know what book this is?" Bruce asked mildly.

" _A Stranger in a Strange Land_ ," Natasha said, still bristling. "We want to orient him to the twenty-first century, not send him into hiding."

"Stick to _Starship Troopers_ or _Space Cadet_ for now," Bruce said.

"Tired of all the history, Steve?" Tony asked conversationally.

"Yeah," Steve said, "a break would be good."

"The _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ trilogy is pretty good," Tony said.

"I don't see how that can be a trilogy when there's five books," Natasha sniffed. "Are you up for dramatic but interesting? Or would you prefer something more escapist?"

Steve shrugged as the others gave him piles of suggestions, so many that Steve wasn't sure where to start. He figured he'd see if he could find anything for ereaders at the library website, or decide to choose a paper copy based on what the library had currently on the shelves.

* * *

After dinner, and helping with the dishes, Steve returned to his quarters to find a copy of _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ on his coffee table. Stuck to it was a typed (well, likely printed) Post It note that said, "The library only has the Americanized versions."

Steve frowned. "JARVIS, who left this book here?"

"I'm afraid that I'm sworn to secrecy."

"How am I supposed to thank them?"

"I'll pass along your regards."

"And to return it?"

"I suspect it will disappear the way it came," JARVIS said. "There are six more books after that one if you're interested, just let me know."

Steve frowned, reading the back cover. It sounded like a children's book, though the cover was mostly black and white with a large red stone on it. The binding was gently cracked, like it had been read a lot, but carefully. He shrugged, deciding that whatever it was, it certainly was going to be less confusing than wading through all the suggestions his teammates had made. And Clint had walked off with Chan's book. Steve would complain about being babied, but from what Clint had said, well, he didn't think he wanted to read that book.

Not for awhile at least. He'd start with this one.

* * *

The setting was amazing, and not terribly jarring. There were televisions and computers (and apparently "ice lollies" meant "popsicle" in British English--thankfully Stark didn't know that, as a cap-lolly sounded even more annoying than a Capsicle), but they weren't important. Not as important as hailstorms of letters, giants with pink umbrellas that could propel boats, and a train (which made him wince a little, but at least it made sense) that whisked Harry away to Hogwarts. Steve felt a bit of wistfulness settle in as Harry found friends and a greater sense of belonging. He vaguely thought that the Avengers were his fellow Gryffindors--them against the bad guys, in large form (Loki/Voldemort) and small (Chan/Rosenberg/Malfoy/Snape).

It took him about two days to breeze through the first book, and when he finished, he asked JARVIS to pass along to its owner thank you very much and yes please to the next one.

He came back to his quarters the next evening ot find both _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ and _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ on his coffee table. Steve figured this meant it wasn't Tony leaving the books, though he should have known that anyway, as Tony seemed to have something against paper. However, as Bruce, Natasha, and Clint were all three going to be out of town, that didn't help narrow things down any. He supposed it might also be Pepper (who was going out of town as well), but since JARVIS was pretty happy to let whoever the Book Fairy was in and out of his quarters in the tower without any comment, it couldn't really be anyone else.

Despite his best efforts to finish before people started trickling back to the tower, Steve was only halfway through Azkaban when they were back, so he couldn't eliminate anyone that way. He'd have gotten further, but that would've required allowing Tony near the stove, or, worse, both of them skipping meals.

_Goblet of Fire_ arrived shortly after he finished _Prisoner of Azkaban_ , with still no clues as to who the Book Fairy was. _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ arrived with a couple of chocolate bars and a Post It note reading "for the Dementors." He noticed that the book had chocolate smudges around the edges, as if the Book Fairy had followed his or her own advice. Probably his, somehow he didn't see Natasha reading children's books. For that matter, it was almost certainly Bruce, as he couldn't see Clint spending money on anything so frivolous as a book. Yet alone a British book. (Though Steve suspected that Clint had been in the UK enough over the years to pick them up there rather than having them shipped.)

The sixth book came without so much fanfare, though when he was about halfway through when someone sent a link to the Captain America Facebook page (which Darcy, the Avengers' new assistant had set up for him and generally ran for him, but Steve liked to pop on now and again-- even though the lecture from Tony about internet safety had him almost never using the private settings that pretty much only the other Avengers could see-- he mostly didn't see the point of posting things for them when he could just tell them.) The link was to something called a "Wizard Rock Festival" in a city park to benefit the continued clean up of the Chitauri attack in New York. Since it was for charity, he posted the link to the public feed, since Darcy hadn't done so all ready (though she usually preceded her posts with "WM" and usually was plugging personal appearances for much the same purposes.)

A quick trip to Google informed him that Wizard Rock was music about Harry Potter. Wondering if he could bait whoever the Book Fairy was into giving himself away (or herself away, Steve supposed he could be completely wrong and it could be Natasha--or maybe JARVIS had been allowing Darcy into tower rooms longer than he thought and the timing was a coincidence--the first book could have been there all day.) He posted the link in a locked post as well as adding, "If I go to this thing, I probably want to have finished the books, right?"

Darcy had replied with "I would think so", Stark with "I think you're taking this 'helping rebuild' kick a little too seriously", and Bruce with, "You're reading Harry Potter?"

Steve should've known that the Book Fairy wouldn't make things that easy. He finished Half Blood Prince, going through two handkerchiefs in the last four chapters. The next morning, he tossed them into the wash with a few other clothes, just as Natasha was pulling her stuff from the dryer.

"I didn't think it was your laundry day, Cap," Natasha said.

He was hardly going to admit to her that he'd been crying over a children's book. Especially since they were scheduled to train that afternoon and she would wipe the floor with him if she thought he was going soft. So he shrugged. "Tony threw spaghetti at me when we were doing the dishes last night."

"Mmm-hmm," Natasha said, not convinced.

* * *

"Coming for sparring or what?" Clint asked half an hour later.

"Yeah, just tossing some stuff in the dryer," Steve replied.

"If you're late, I'm going harder on you, fair warning," Clint said.

Steve shrugged. At least he'd have clean hankies.

* * *

That evening he got back to find _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ and a box of tissues. Steve wondered if he was wrong about it not being Clint or Natasha, or if it was just that JARVIS had ratted him out. He shrugged, made himself a cup of tea, and settled in with the book. He had a week and a half before the concert; finishing the book shouldn't be a problem.

Of course, that's when Murphy's law kicked in and he and the team were off to the middle of the USSR, er, somewhere in that former region for five days. Then there were debriefs, though Steve was able to read in the evenings. By eight o'clock the night before the show, he had about 150 pages left, and figured it wouldn't take him that long to finish. (OK, that and he really didn't want to put the book down.) If he'd known what he was in for, he might have left it. Possibly forever. The battle was pretty much what he expected, and he'd _known_ that Dumbledore couldn't possibly have been begging Snape for his life at the end of book six, but then came Harry's walk into the forest, where he kept having to stop reading. Partly for tissues (he was glad the Book Fairy had left them--he didn't have enough handkerchiefs) and partly because he had to get his head back into Hogwarts, and not on the plane he crashed into the ocean to keep it from hitting New York. He was envied Harry the Resurrection Stone; Harry walked to his death with (some form of) his parents, Sirius, and Remus. 70 years or several months later (depending on how you wanted to look at it,) he was still glad to have been able to talk to Peggy, but Steve would've given anything to have been able to see or talk to his parents and Bucky one last time at that moment (or now even.)

Throughout the next two chapters, Steve was torn between hoping that Harry would somehow, someway save the wizarding world without having to die and just hoping that somehow Harry ended up amongst people he loved and that loved him, and not all alone in a new...

Steve was projecting into the story again, and he reached for a tissue, glad he was alone, and hoping that once he was done with the books he'd at least be able to thank the Book Fairy for the tissues. Amongst other things. And he had the other Avengers, who were helping. He wasn't alone. Inside the Tower at least.

When he finally finished the epilogue in the early hours of the morning, he knew he should go to sleep, but he felt too wired and a little wrought, so he spent a bit of time surfing the internet on his Starkpad before he was finally able to go to sleep.

* * *

Steve slept late that day, glad it was the weekend and that the bad guys seemed to have gone into hibernation again. If the other Avengers found it odd that he was up only an hour before Tony, they never let on. He didn't tell anyone where he was going: he didn't think they'd get it. (And no one had said a word to him about that Facebook post other than the comments.) Steve figured it could be interesting, and it certainly seemed like a better use of a Saturday evening than sitting around the tower doing not much.

He took the subway to the park, then paid his admission to go through the gates-- though the whole area was pretty much cordoned off with tables, police tape, and the stage itself (though Steve figured anyone who really wanted to listen could do so outside the barriers, if Tony's music listening habits were any indication, this concert would be **loud**.) He wondered as he waited in the (short) line to pay, what was to stop anyone from ducking under the barriers, but he was presented with an adhesive strip of paper after he paid and instructed to put it on his wrist.

Steve stepped beyond the table to let the person behind him pay, then stared at the wrist band for a moment, removed the adhesive tape, and tried to put it on one wrist with one hand, but it was gently taken from his hand by graceful fingers.

"Did you finish _Deathly Hallows_ , Steve?" Natasha asked quietly as she deftly attached the stubborn piece of paper to his wrist.

"Yeah, last night," Steve said. "Well, early this morning. Are you the one who's been lending me the books?"

Natasha nodded.

Steve tried to hide how floored he was, and he was about to ask why Natasha had gone through all cloak and dagger business of leaving the books on his coffee table when he was interrupted by a high pitched squeal.

"Natasha!" cried a small voice.

Steve nearly had to jump out of the way as a very small girl barreled over to them, blonde braids flying backwards and she just about crashed into Natasha, wrapping her arms around the assassin's waist.

He just about fell over when Natasha hugged the little girl back. 

"Hi, Amy, are you overworking your mom again?"

"She's too slow!" Amy bounced as she let go of Natasha. "We haven't seen you in ages. Is this your friend?" She turned to Steve. "Hi, I'm Amy. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand.

Steve glanced at Natasha. One of the first things that all the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel had told him, and all the Avengers, was about the proliferation of kidnapping and child molestation in the last few decades. That i was very easy to be falsely accused, which meant that he should be very, very careful when kids' parents weren't right there, especially when it came to touching them in any way, shape, or form. He was therefore rather surprised when Natasha gave him a slight nod.

He reached out and shook Amy's hand. "Hi, Amy, I'm Steve, it's nice to meet you too."

"Good job, Amy," said a voice from behind him.

Steve rose and turned to see a woman with red hair beaming at both of them. She was carrying a baby and had a diaper bag slung over one shoulder.

"Natasha, it's been forever," the woman said, wrapping her free arm briefly around Natasha's shoulders.

Steve raised an eyebrow at Natasha, who just smiled, her eyes sparkling.

"Well, the last time Alex was in town, you were on bed rest with this little guy." Natasha patted the wide eyed baby on the back.

"Yes, and my first time out after Matty here was born was when Lauren, Matt, and Justin were last through," the woman replied. "More secret government stuff?"

"Something like that," Natasha said. "This is my friend Steve."

"Amanda," the woman said, holding out her hand.

Steve shook it. "Nice to meet you."

"I hope Amy wasn't too forward," Amanda said. "I've finally convinced her not to go running up and hugging people she hasn't met before, even at a Wizard Rock show."

Steve grinned. "She strikes me as a very well mannered little girl, ma'am."

Amanda raised her eyebrows.

"Sorry, too formal again?" Steve asked, looking at Natasha.

Amanda raised an eyebrow.

"Steve had a pretty old fashioned upbringing," Natasha said. "We're working on getting him up to speed on the twenty first century."

"I just finished reading the last of the books last night," Steve added, hoping it wasn't a mistake to admit how recently he'd learned about Harry Potter.

"And you're not hung over or half awake, I'm impressed."

Steve shrugged. "I do OK on less sleep for a day or two. I might be paying for two late nights in a row tomorrow."

Natasha snickered, and Steve suspected she was about to say something when she was interrupted by another young woman calling her name.

It was all Steve could do not to sit down where he stood when Natasha hugged this woman as well, then introduced her as Mary. They started to make their way towards the stage, but kept having to stop to greet more people (Steve was amazed at how many people Natasha seemed to know.) Many of them hugged Natasha. One or two tried to hug Steve, which he found a little weird, though he was getting sympathetic looks from some of the others and was informed that these people were just "a bit carried away"-- Steve wondered what "violation of personal space" meant to these people.

The atmosphere was completely different than anything Steve had been to (or performed for) before; this was probably a given, as he knew there would be electric guitars, which didn't exist during World War II, but he hadn't been expecting that the chairs would be set up in the back, with a clear space in front of the stage. It was this area they seemed to be (slowly) making their way to.

The stage appeared to be a bunch of square pieces on metal legs, which only raised it a few feet from the ground. Several people were on the stage, tuning instruments. Most of them were in their mid-twenties, though there was one older couple and one other woman who Steve suspected was older, but he couldn't quite tell. 

Amy broke off from her mother to join a small group of children about her age, who were running between the stage and one of the tables laden with t-shirts and CDs set up at the side, and Steve noticed that one of the men sitting at the table had a close eye on them. The kids were shrieking with laughter.

One woman on stage, who was wearing a black jacket with a black and yellow tie and a pleated skirt, looked around, and getting nods and thumbs up from the others, left her place behind the keyboard and started fussing with the microphone stand.

Natasha grinned at Steve. "It looks like Witherwings is going first. I think you're really going to like her music."

Steve raised an eyebrow at Natasha, suddenly wondering what he was in for. He was just beginning to wonder if he should be excited or scared (though given Natasha's reaction to Chan's book recommendations, he supposed he wouldn't _hate_ whatever was coming, as Natasha's only concern at his presence was that he'd finished reading the books) when a long haired oriental-- Asian, he corrected himself mentally-- woman sat and the drum kit and started to play. This was followed by a dark haired man on an acoustic guitar, and the woman in what Steve suspected was meant to be a Hogwarts uniform (though he thought it looked more like a British school uniform than a wizard robe) started dancing. And then she started to sing. Her voice was like silk coming over the microphone, crooning a tune that reminded him a bit of Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald.

It took him a few songs to get used to the singing in a way that he could understand the lyrics, and once he could... he almost wished he hadn't. The line that jumped out at him, like a H.Y.D.R.A. soldier laying in wait, was "How can anyone prepare to face their death?" Steve was transported simultaneously back to the forest around Hogwarts and the plane barreling down on New York City. He took a deep breath. He was here, now, without all his friends or his girl, and nearly jumped as Natasha squeezed his arm. He smiled at her tentatively, realizing that maybe not _all_ his friends were in the past. Especially when one of the guys he'd been introduced to not twenty minutes before patted his shoulder. In retrospect, Steve thought maybe such a thing should have been weird, but it just wasn't.

He joined in the cheers and clapping as Witherwings finished her set; it seemed odd, but apparently being appreciative in this day and age meant being loud. (Perhaps this just made Stark and Thor the most appreciative people that Steve knew.)

The next band was a little... different. It was closer to some of the stuff that Tony played (though Steve swore the volume was lower than Tony's stereo ever got) and not the sort of thing that would have been played in polite company or with children present in the '40s (though much milder than some of the things said by the Howling Commandos outside of polite company.)

"You doing OK?" Natasha asked as the guitarist was tuning before the next song.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony's worse. And you should've heard the Howling Commandos when it was just us."

Natasha smirked.

* * *

"Thank you," said one of the singers. "Swish and Flick will be on in a few minutes."

"Amanda, what do you say we take the little kids for ice cream?" Dave, who had clapped Steve on the shoulder, said as his daughter came running up.

"Sounds like a good idea," Amanda replied.

Dave settled his daughter, Katie, onto his hip. "Steve, Natasha, ice cream?"

"Sure, we should get Steve some sunscreen to," Natasha said.

"You don't want to see Swish and Flick?" Steve asked.

"Come on, Steve, leave me with all these women and my wife's going to be asking all sorts of awkward questions," Dave said.

Katie shook her head. "You're riddikulous, Daddy."

"Is your dad a boggart?" Steve asked, nearly delighted when he was greeted with giggles. "He doesn't look so scary to me. I guess you did a good job on that spell, huh?"

Katie blushed and buried her face in Dave's neck.

"I don't think you'll like Swish and Flick, Steve. Remember that CD that Chan and Joubert played for you in the first couple weeks you knew them. The one that had you ranting for an hour afterwards about the degeneration of popular music?" Natasha asked Steve.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"Same style," Natasha said. "Right down to the language."

"OK, ice cream sounds good," Steve said. "But I don't need sunscreen."

"Your ears are turning pink," Natasha said. "And you don't want skin cancer."

"Now you sound like Tony." Steve frowned at her.

"If we're agreeing on something, maybe that means you should listen?" Natasha asked reasonably.

"Fine, just don't tell Tony."

"His ego's big enough as it is," Natasha said.

"Who's this Tony person?" Amanda asked conversationally as they started heading towards the exit.

"Another guy we work with," Steve replied, hoping that they didn't connect the dots--he had no idea how much Natasha had told these people about what she did for a living, but he really didn't want to spend the next hour talking about Stark.

"So you work with Natasha at the government doing something classified you can't tell us about?" Dave asked.

"How do I join the Spy Kids division?" Katie asked.

"I don't think there's a Spy Kids division..." Steve said, sounding confused. "But I do work for the government, and that's about all I can tell you."

"Spy Kids is one of Katie's favorite movies," Dave explained.

Amanda batted at Natasha playfully. "I thought all your coworkers were hopeless muggles?"

"Steve's new." Natasha shoved back, equally playfully. In a manner that she might have shoved Clint.

Steve raised an eyebrow as they exited the park, alternating between enjoying the conversation and trying to figure out why Natasha was so _relaxed_ around these people.

Not that there was any reason not be relaxed, it just wasn't a state of mind that he associated with Natasha.

* * *

They went to a Ben and Jerry's near the park. Steve stared at the flavor choices for awhile, until Natasha suggested he ask for a taste of Phish Food. Steve did, and liked it, so he bought a cone, thanking Natasha for the suggestion.

"Where are you from, Steve?" Dave asked as they sat down and he tucked a paper napkin into Katie's shirt. "I thought Ben and Jerry's was everywhere now."

"Brooklyn," Steve said. "It's just... it was a really sheltered upbringing. Almost like my parents were living the last century." Exactly like that, but his time in the ice was so classified that Steve wasn't entirely sure that he even had clearance to know about it. "I hadn't even read any of the books until a few weeks ago. Natasha's been pulling a ninja act and sneaking them onto my desk." Coffee table. Whatever. "I didn't realize it was her, though, until this afternoon. Though I gather that the UK versions are better than what I'd get from the library."

"I don't know what I'm more envious of," Mary said, "that you didn't have to wait years between books or that you got to read them for the first time in Natasha's UK copies. Which she won't loan out to any of us, by the way, so you should feel honored."

"She knows where I live." Steve shrugged.

"Who did you think was leaving them?" Natasha asked.

Steve just shrugged.

"What house are you in?" Amy asked chirpily from around her cup of... brown ice cream that appeared to be mostly sprinkles.

Steve blinked. "I... live in an apartment?"

Amy frowned. "No, at Hogwarts."

Steve glanced at Amanda, unsure of how to respond.

"She means: what house do you think you'd be sorted into if you went to Hogwarts," Amanda clarified. She turned to Amy. "Go easy on him, sweetie, he just found out that he's a wizard."

Steve blinked.

"You know, like Start Trek fans are Trekkers?" Mary said helpfully. "Well, you might have heard 'Trekkies,' but it's 'Trekkers.'"

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out his mini-sketch pad and pen. "I see some serious Wikipedia time in my future."

"Be careful with that, you don't know who's editing it," Dave said.

"Am I going to find books on Trekkies and Wizards in the library?" Steve asked. Really, where else was he going to find this stuff?

Dave took the pad from Steve. "Let me give you my e-mail address, I can help you find some stuff on this, but basically fans usually come up with group names to distinguish themselves from non-fans. In Harry Potter circles, fans are wizards and non-fans are muggles."

"Don't mind Dave,' Mary said, "he's a teacher; he doesn't like Wikipedia."

"Dave has a point," Natasha said. "Things may end up being negotiated into fair and balanced on Wikipedia, but you never know at what point you're actually hitting the page."

"Natasha, do you have a copy of _Harry: A History_ you could lend him?" Amanda asked. "I don't think the library would have that one."

Steve couldn't help but wonder at the fact that even though everyone was patient and not acting like he was somehow weird or stupid for not knowing this stuff (unlike Rosenberg, who _knew_ about the ice and clearly just didn't want to deal with him,) he was still ending up with more reading assignments. No one had told him what house they thought they should be in: maybe he was sitting with a bunch of Ravenclaws (except for Natasha who... he wasn't sure. Not Ravenclaw.) Still, their attitude was refreshing.

"Do you have a favorite character, Mr...." Katie trailed off.

"Just call me Steve, please," he said, gently. "Otherwise I'll be thinking I'm in trouble. I'm not sure about favorite characters--I probably would've said Percy until the fifth book."

"Percy is a prat," Katie and Amy sang at once, giggling.

"I'll have to remember to lend you some Gred and Forge CDs," Natasha said.

That would explain how they picked a tune so easily.

"He certainly was a prat to Harry," Steve agreed. "I mean, imagine knowing him at school for three years and then suddenly believing all those lies! And don't get me started on how he treated his family."

* * *

"Think we'll miss Lauren's first song?" Katie asked when Steve and Natasha came out of the drug store that they'd ducked into for Steve to get some sunscreen.

"We still have a few minutes," Amanda said patiently.

"She and Matt will be back in about a month anyway," Dave pointed out.

"They come that often?" Steve asked.

"Summer tours," Mary said.

"And this is how they earn their living," Natasha said.

Steve gaped. "Do all of these bands?"

"No, just some of them," Dave said.

"Still. Wow."

"You could form your own band, start touring the country," Amanda joked.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I didn't think it would suit you either," Mary said.

"He's more of a fan art type," Natasha said.

Katie and Amy, who had been waiting more or less patiently, started wiggling.

The adults didn't say anything, but then Katie took her father's hand. "Come on!"

Steve had a feeling that Amanda and Dave really didn't want to expose their small children to Swish and Flick. He wondered just how bad the language was.

* * *

After Lauren's set came the Whomping Willows' set. He wasn't sure what to make of the songs: why would a tree try to flirt with Hermione Granger or tell Luna Lovegood that he believed in nargles? The highlight of the set for him was when the singer called several people on the stage to "teach them [the audience] the Neville dance." Firstly, the volunteers were followed by a little girl of three or four, who waved to the audience. The song started, and most people started doing the moves, but Steve had all ready decided he wasn't dancing. (It wasn't really dancing, as far as he was concerned. It seemed to be a lot of hand waving, running in place, and then kind of miming actually dancing with someone.) Steve could see that he wasn't the only one: Natasha wasn't "dancing" either. At first.

Amanda and Mary started prodding her. Katie reached up, trying to show Natasha what she was supposed to do with her hands. Steve nearly jumped when Amy reached up and started grabbing his hands as well. He pulled them away, looking nervously at Amanda who seemed unconcerned.

Natasha sighed, and started the "dance" picking it up with the running in place. The she reached out and swatted at him. "If I have to, you have to too. It's not that hard."

Steve watched the rest of the round, sighed, and started to dance as well. He wasn't very good; his rhythm was totally off and he was switching the moves out of sync with everyone else. He tried looking at Mary while trying to get himself straightened out, but she was having similar problems. Every time they caught one another's eye, they kept cracking up. (Natasha, of course, had perfect rhythm, but the file he'd gotten from S.H.I.E.L.D. indicated that she'd been trained in ballet as a child, so he wasn't terribly surprised.) However, every time Natasha caught his eye, she would almost start laughing as well--which would almost set him off. Not that Steve blamed her, as he was pretty sure that everyone both on and in front of the stage looked kind of ridiculous (except for the people who were too busy playing instruments to dance); it was, oddly, fun acting ridiculous as a large group.

The next time there was prescribed dancing (in the form of the woman who was the lead singer for Tonks and the Aurors shouting "dance break" during an instrumental section,) Steve glanced around and determined that everyone was pretty much doing their own thing. He swayed awkwardly to the beat, assuming that if he didn't at least try, Amy and Katie would gang up on him as they had during the Neville Dance. Natasha smirked at him in a way that made him think that had he actually made it to the Stork club (two months) all those years ago, that Peggy would have had her work cut out for her if she'd tried to teach him to dance. His stomach twisted a bit, as it always did and he hoped no one noticed he wasn't attempting to dance with quite the same enthusiasm Natasha must have, as she squeezed his arm a little bit as the dance break ended and the song resumed.

* * *

Steve wasn't sure what to make of the reaction when Alex Carpenter took the stage. Some of the teenage girls were practically screaming from excitement. He glanced at Natasha and Amanda who shrugged.

"They're teenagers, it's what they do," Mary added, with a tone of fond exasperation that suggested to Steve that this screaming at singers thing wasn't as new to the rest of the world as it was to him.

About halfway through the set, a sax player joined the other performers on the stage, and Steve saw Natasha tense. He moved over to her as the music started, the saxophone giving the song a jazzy feel that he found that he rather liked. He couldn't read Natasha, but she met his eyes, and he could see pain there he hadn't seen since Coulson's funeral. He reached out, squeezing her opposite shoulder. She leaned into his arm a bit, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she took a step closer to him, craning towards his ear. He leaned down.

"I played this song for Coulson once, kind of a long story."

Steve bit back bile in his throat, Peggy had lived a full life, even if he hadn't been there for most of it; Coulson had barely been fifty and...

"Wands out and a flash of green light,  
"This was the last way I thought I'd spend that night.  
"Many others they wore your pin.  
"We all supported the true champion."

Steve just about lost it, thinking how Cedric's loss had helped to cement Dumbledore's Army in the same (or perhaps a bit more delayed) way that Coulson's loss had helped to cement the Avengers. He pulled Natasha a bit closer, grateful that she wasn't pulling away. For most of the show, they'd been drifting apart a bit, but for the rest of the set, they stood next to each other, as if tethered together.

* * *

Steve wasn't sure quite how the group was coordinated, but somehow a large crowd of the concert goers and a few of the performers ended up going from hanging out at the "merch tables" (he'd ended up buying a couple of Witherwings CDs) to sharing snacks and a few beers (in the case of the adults) at a nearby TGI Fridays. He wasn't sure which was more amazing: that after those around him were acquainted with his "sheltered upbringing" and the fact that he didn't want to talk about it, not a single person pressed him, or, that just like at Ben and Jerry's that afternoon, no one told him to Google something he didn't understand. He was given a couple more book recommendations, but people at least gave him a succinct explanation of what they meant (except when he asked about Potter Puppet Pals, which had folks reaching for the nearest smart phone-- which was Steve's StarkPhone as it turned out--because they said it was easier to just show him. Steve figured it would be better when he could hear every word, but he didn't think he'd ever see anything resembling another Punch and Judy show again-- boy was he wrong.) He'd ended up sitting far enough from Natasha that she couldn't really hear him, but it didn't matter because somehow these people never managed to make him feel out of place. It was a nice feeling, and one he'd been beginning to doubt he'd ever have outside of the Avengers.

"Are you still in Midtown, Mary?" Natasha asked as they were paying their bills and starting to trickle out.

"Yeah, the same place as always," Mary said. "Why?"

"Steve and I are on the same line, want to ride with us?"

"Yeah, sure."

Steve wondered if Natasha was trying to avoid talking to him or just trying to casually keep her friend off the subway alone. He knew if he'd suggested that Natasha maybe not ride the subway alone, she'd have spent twenty minutes lecturing him about feminism and modern women. On the other hand, _Natasha_ could take Steve down in a fight-- he couldn't really say the same for Mary with any degree of confidence.

* * *

"Next one's me," Mary said, giving Natasha a final hug. "Try not not be such a stranger, OK? Don't forget the meet up at the Guggenheim in two weeks. Either of you." She looked pointedly at Steve.

"We'll see," Natasha said.

Steve stood up. "Unless either of us has to work, I'll drag her." He was looking forward to the museum trip. And not just for the exhibits.

He was somewhat surprised when Mary gave him a hug too. "Nice meeting you."

He hugged back. "Likewise. You want us to walk with you to your apartment?" Steve offered. He would _not_ look at Natasha. She might not like it, but he wasn't going to make Mary walk alone if she wasn't comfortable doing so.

"My roommates are meeting me at the station, but thanks for the offer," Mary said. She didn't _sound_ offended.

"You never bring your roommates," Natasha said.

Mary shrugged. "They're total muggles. Nice enough though."

The train stopped.

"See you guys," Mary said, striding out of the train.

Steve sat next to Natasha as the doors closed. Trying to figure out where to begin.

"Not a word to Barton or the others," Natasha said.

Steve mimed zipping his lips. "I take it that's why you pulled the whole cloak and dagger bit with the books?"

"That and it was fun seeing if I could sneak through Tony's security system."

"You'll have to teach me how to talk JARVIS out of being a fink."

Natasha just smirked.

"If I go back and look at who sent me the link to this event, will I find out it was one of your old cover Facebook accounts?"

"No, I suggested it to one of the people in charge of publicity," Natasha said.

"Thank you," Steve said.

"For?"

"Trusting me enough to share this with me," he said. "It's been..." he trailed off, not sure how to say anything that wasn't incredibly sappy.

"Yeah."

"Are there a lot of things like this?" he asked.

"No. This is special, but I just thought... I mean, Chan and Joubert have been jerks, and so many others are impatient with you, and these guys wouldn't be like that. And the rest of us, we spend a lot of time worrying, 'cause you're just so darn _good_ that we focus on making sure you know how much bad there is in the world now. I thought you'd like to see some of the good that's still here."

Steve nodded as the train reached their stop. They stepped off, heading back to Avengers Tower, it still shone like a beacon, but Steve felt like it was at the center of other pools of light.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics taken from The Last Walk by [Witherwings](http://mandalasongs.com/) and Remember Cedric by [The Remus Lupins](http://www.fightevilreadbooks.com). (Word of warning: [We're starting](http://hermionejg.tumblr.com/post/79604244628/i-am-going-to-start-with-a-redundant-sentence) to [hear things](http://regularusername0409.tumblr.com/post/79667617515/yes-this-is-another-post-about-being-manipulated-by-a) that suggest that while as a rule Wizard Rock is a welcoming and safe community, not everyone may be as they seem. As with everywhere, be careful who you trust. (Note that this story was written before these people came forward, but I chose that song for a reason, and this note is my compromise.)  
> The bands are real. The wizards Steve & Natasha interact with are not.


End file.
